


B is for Bad

by finprop



Series: ABCs of Samifer: AU Style [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Library AU, M/M, Sam is a Tease, handjobs, only underage because Sam is seventeen and Lucifer is twenty-one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-11 12:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/798797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finprop/pseuds/finprop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all Sam's fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	B is for Bad

It’s because he’s so cute that Luce takes the risk.

Honestly, Luce has always been the bad boy. Had Sammy been just a little older, Luce would’ve flirted with zero apprehensions. But he’s not; fuck, he’s a minor. Seventeen, yes, though Luce is still twenty one is this is still so very illegal. Sure, Luce has done his share of illegal things—got him kicked out of his own house, frankly—but fucking minors is crossing an imaginary line he’d unknowingly set for himself.

But oh, is this boy a tease.

Damn those hips, the little shit knows how to show them. Tight, low riding jeans, but not too low because he’s still in a professional area—a library, to be precise. He works at the information station located in back of the building, just beside the non-fiction section where Luce first found him with the intentions of finishing a project on his mind. He’s still aiming to finish that project at some point, subconsciously, he swears it. Sam is just very, _very_ distracting.

God, this is so wrong. And kinky. This is a library; the idea of public exposure should be a turn off, but it’s _not_. God no. Turns Luce on even more, the thrill of being caught if he ever indeed got into those tight pants of Sam’s—which he will, that much is obvious—if Luce wants to be honest. And god _damn_ , this is not good. Not good at all.

It’s all Sam’s fault.

“Hey Luce,” Sam greets as Luce enters the non-fiction vicinity. Sam’s grinning, leant over the table in front of him. He’s wearing the usual torturous attire; plaid shirt—looks damn good on him, but probably even better off and okay, Luce, you need to _stop_ —those stupid, stupid low riding jeans and that annoyingly sexy dimpled smile of his. Luce’s lips quirk into a smirk and he drops his bag on the chair positioned before the information desk. Sam glances up at Luce and leans back, arms crossed over his chest and brow quirked inquisitively.

“You look like you have something on your mind,” Sam comments. Luce exhales shortly and shakes his head with a slight grin.

“Yeah,” Luce admits. “Just a little,” he flicks his eyes up at Sam and smirks. “Actually, scratch that. A lot. Specifically concerning you,”

Sam’s expression skitters, fleeting just briefly from composed and flirtatious to shy and embarrassed. It’s gone in a flash, but it’s just enough to show Sam is not as cocky as he’s presenting himself. It should be a sign for Luce to back off—fuck, it is, but Luce is fucking ignoring it. Luce wants Sam. And when Luce wants something, he _will_ have it.

“Really now?” Sam murmurs, but his bravado is gone and his voice is weaker but raw none the less. The lust is more evident now. Luce licks his lower lips slowly, considering, before grinning widely.

“Yes, Sammy,” he purrs, leaning his elbows on the edge of the table. Sam visibly gulps and Luce feels his morality sloughing away. God dammit this is wrong. “Would you mind if I explained what exactly I think of you?”

“Not at all,” Sam says, forcing himself to a whisper and Luce chuckles. He’s so damn adorable.

“Well…” Luce says languidly, getting to his feet. He steps around the edge of the table and barricades Sam to his chair by bracing one hand to one of the plastic object’s arms. He brushes a stray bang aside and tucks it neatly behind Sam’s ear. “I think actions speak louder than words. What do you think?”

Sam can do nothing more than nod, and that’s it. There’s no going back. Luce is going to take a minor is library, a public place and oh god, this should not be as hot as it is, fuck—

“Time is of the essence, Sammy,” Luce growls. In an instant, he’s dragging Sam to his feet and to the most secluded corner of the non-fiction section he can find—it’s rather easy; nobody goes way back there ever really anyways—and slams Sam against a wall. Luce’s hand is slipping down the front of Sam’s jeans while his mouth attacks Sam’s smooth neck. Sam’s making these delicious little noises, evidently forcing himself to be quiet, and while Luce wants to hear Sam at full volume, he’s not going to take that much of a risk.

“Luce,” Sam gasps, and Luce about loses it.

“I’m here, gorgeous,” Luce murmurs roughly. His hand strokes Sam urgently through his boxers as he grinds against Sam’s thigh. Luce drags his mouth up Sam’s neck to his jaw, lands an open mouthed kiss there then travels eastward to Sam’s slack mouth. Luce kisses him hungrily, stifling his moans as his hand speeds up a touch. Sam’s back arches and he cries quietly into Luce’s awaiting mouth. Luce eats it up—almost literally—before yanking Sam’s jeans down for better access.

Sam’s boxers are pulled down along with his pants, his cock springing up as the confining fabric gives way. Sam groans softly as the cool air hits his exposed skin and his back bends a little more. Luce smirks and wraps a hand loosely around the base, causing Sam to keen.

“Can’t do anything more than jerk you off at the moment,” Luce growls, sliding his palm slowly up Sam’s length. Sam gasps and nods quickly.

“Th-that’s okay,” he stammers out, bucking his hips into Luce’s hand as to get more friction.

“If this goes well, maybe I can take you home and really show you my full opinion,” Luce adds, skimming his thumb nail just barely along the head of Sam’s cock then before sliding back down. Sam whimpers and nods frantically, now at the point where words are no longer a possibility. God, it’s amazing.

Luce barely gives Sam a few more tugs until Sam is coming, and Luce just barely clamps his mouth over Sam’s in time to muffle Sam’s scream of pleasure. Luce works him through his orgasm, his strokes become more lazy and his kisses more affectionate as Sam falls slack in his arms.

“What ’bout you?” Sam manages after a moment of catching his breath. He drops his head on Luce’s shoulder and slides his hand across Luce’s chest leisurely.

Yes, about Luce. He’s hard enough to cut diamonds, rather visibly. Luce shrugs and tucks Sam back into his boxers then his jeans, ignoring the grunt of disapproval and mumbled “I can do that myself” pressed into his shoulder.

“I’ll manage,” Luce says, shrugging his free shoulder.

“Wait, ah—” Sam hesitates and Luce glances down at him. Luce feels something warm against the skin of his shoulder, which, he realizes with a soft chuckle, is Sam. He’s blushing; how adorable. “Y-you said if this went well, we could go back to your place, and…”

“Do you want that, Sam?” Luce asks suddenly. “I’m older than you,”

“Not by much!” Sam argues.

“Not the point,” Luce counters, and he feels Sam frown.

“I know, but…” Sam shifts. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” The desperation in Sam’s voice kills Luce.

Luce face contorts into that of affront and he pulls Sam back to scowl at him. “Never,” Luce whispers fiercely. Sam’s shoulders sag in relief and grins.

“Then can we go to your house?” He asks, glancing down bashfully.

Luce laughs. He couldn’t refuse Sam even if he wanted to.

“Of course, Sammy,”


End file.
